Burned
by Loups
Summary: Fate, destiny, sheer dumb luck, call it what you will. When Bella crashes into a stranger with the most beautiful green eyes and his scalding cup of coffee, she is marked in more ways then one. Are these marks permanent? Can they heal? Will she let them?
1. Chapter 1

Another start to another school year; I hated to admit it, but this kind of stuff excited me. The night before the first day of school had me restless with anticipation. The thrill that this day always brought me was akin to Christmas Eve for many. As a result, I had slept fitfully though the night and was running behind schedule this morning.

As I sat on the train for my morning commute, I had to wonder why, after all these years, the first day of school still excited me so. I mean, realistically, it's not like I didn't know my classes or my schedule, heck I even knew most of my students. Technically, this wasn't even my first day, let alone my first day with students. I had been teaching at the same all girls private school for five years now and had just gotten back from a weeklong trip to Washington, DC with my senior students. It was tradition at our school that each grade went on a bonding and team-building trip before classes began.

I may or may not have had more fun than my students. The science geek in me salivated at the thought of camping out at the Smithsonian. In fact, I was pretty sure that had I been allowed, I would have slept at the Air and Space museum and gladly stayed there the entire week. A prime example, pardon the pun, of my geekiness was our mandatory stop at the Einstein Memorial, where I begged our bus driver to stop so that I might get my picture taken sitting on his lap. Overkill, perhaps, but it may or may not have been the highlight of my trip.

Lost in thought, I almost didn't hear the purposely-loud voices of some of my students trying to embarrass me,

"Morning Ms. Swan!" they spoke in unison.

I smiled and politely replied at a much lower decibel, "Morning ladies."

Rather then converse with them, I got up and made my way to the car exit, I would be seeing those girls soon enough in my first period class.

One of the drawbacks to living in the suburbs is that you have to leave fairly early in the morning. As a result, I always ate breakfast at school. I sometimes treated myself to Starbucks if I was teaching first period, justifying the chai latté and muffin because it saved me time once I got to school.

I fiddled with my iPod, looking for a song that fit my mood as I entered the store to wait in line. I was randomly searching for that particular song, when I pulled open the door to the coffee shop and collided chest-first with a venti something or other blend of coffee.

"JESUS!" I screamed as I backed away, coffee spilled all down my crisp, white blouse and kaki skirt.

"For Christ's sake!" said a man wearing charcoal grey pants. I noticed the pants because I was looking down at my blouse trying to figure out how to get the scalding liquid to stop burning my chest, even my bra was soaked and steaming! This would definitely be leaving a mark.

"What the hell is your problem? Damn it, look what you've done!" said the man with the venti, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow" I chanted as I tried to keep the scalding clothing from my chest in an attempt to minimize the burn.

I looked up into his ray-ban covered eyes and thought to my self, _this jerk has the same sunglasses as me_.

I raised my sunglasses off my face and instead of coming up with a snarky, equally rude comeback, which would undoubtedly come to me later, I stared silently at Mr. Venti as tears pooled in my eyes. I tried to look up to delay the flow of tears onto my cheeks. I knew this was an exercise in futility, but crying in front of this man, this douchebag, just made me feel like I was giving in.

Seeing my teary face and pained expression must have hit a nerve because he seemed to finally realize that I was hurt. He raised his sunglasses from his face only to look upon me with the greenest eyes. I was almost like seeing my tears awakened something in him. His expression softened immediately as he bent down to my level.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, this is completely my fault. Are you alright?" he stammered. His change in demeanor was dizzying to-say-the-least. He began removing his suit jacket, probably in an attempt to cover me, but I would never know for sure because my sympathetic nervous system chose this moment to kick in.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" I mumbled over and over again as I started to back away from him. _Flight, flight, flight, I have to get the hell out of here before I embarrass myself anymore_, I kept thinking.

I turned and hurried out of the coffee shop, bound and determined to keep my head down and avoid eye contact with anyone else as I trekked up the hill to school.

"Wait, are you alright? Can I drop you anywhere? What's your name?" he yelled from the door to the shop.

I put my ear buds back in and pretended not you hear him as I retreated.

The receptionist took one look at my clothes then my face and refrained from making any snide remarks. Thankfully, the phys ed. department kept a well-stocked first aid kit as well as a supply of shorts and t-shirts for students who forgot their gym uniforms, and I was able to change before class.

Grabbing what I needed from the various supply closets, I slipped into a bathroom stall to clean up. My upper chest and stomach were blotchy and my chest was beginning to blister. _Oh, this isn't good_, I thought to myself. I'd been burned before and knew the drill. Carefully washing off the burns with antiseptic and applying some antibiotic cream took more time than I thought and I ended up hurrying down the hall towards my classroom as the warning bell rang.

"Interesting state of dress this morning, Miss Swan" says my principal as I hurried past his office. "Did you have practice this morning, coach?" he continues.

"Morning Mr. Greene, no sir, no practice. I, um, had a fight with a cup of coffee this morning… and, um, the coffee cup won…" I muttered.

"Oh, well, in that case, better luck next time", he offers essentially ending the conversation.

"Thanks" I say but the blaring of the bell for first period drowns it out.

As I make my way into my classroom to greet my first class, my stomach grumbles and I realize that I have not yet had breakfast. _Delightful_, I think to myself. My chest and stomach feel like their still on fire, I smell is a giant Sumatran coffee bean, I'm wearing ill-fitting shorts and a t-shirt, my eyes are still blotchy from crying, and I'm hungry. All-in-all, a great start to the day, the week, and the school year.

I finally get a free period just prior to lunch and make my way to the staff lounge to see if I can rustle anything up to eat because I'm starving by this point. Low and behold, sitting on the counter is basket with a lone bagel sitting in it. The note next to the basket says _Welcome back teachers! Have a bagel, start off the day and the year right!_ It's from the parents' committee. The irony of the message is not lost on me as I sit there and practically devour my bagel.

Having sated my stomach, I sit in the lounge and ponder my morning. For the last four hours, all I've managed to focus on are a piercing set of green eyes. How angry he looked when he crashed into me, how quickly those emerald eyes softened once he realized I was hurt, how melodic his voice sounded as he called out to me as I ran away. _Dream on sweetie, Mr. Venti is so far out of your league, it's not even funny_. Ah, that's more like it; the negative self-talk wakes me from my daydream and I scold myself for even thinking that those fine eyes would ever look upon me with anything akin to love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi all, so the story received several hits and I even got two reviews! Not going to lie, I was giddy as a schoolgirl thinking about people actually reading what I wrote. I appreciate it and welcome any constructive feedback.**

Chapter 2

BPOV

It surprised me how easily I fell back into my work routine. Early mornings, long days, correcting, planning, teaching, coaching, going through the motions.

Towards the end of my first week back, I had almost chalked up my collision with green-eyed Mr. Venti as imaginary were it not for the healing burn blisters on my chest and stomach—the only proof I had that seeing him was real, _delightful_, I thought. Why was this affecting me so? I had seen good-looking men before, heck; I had even embarrassed myself by stumbling or falling in front of them before, on numerous occasions, so why were those eyes plaguing my dreams? Every morning this week, I'd woken with a start and the only thing I could remember was a pair of emerald green eyes looking at me with such intensity that in scared me.

As a rule of thumb, I never let people get close. Even my truest friends had had to work, and work hard to break away little pieces of my wall. A lot of time and effort had gone into building my wall and it was a masterpiece. A veritable Fort Knox, that was impenetrable to most, so why was it that I woke up every morning feeling like those green eyes had looked through my wall as if it were nothing more than a pane of the thinnest glass?

What little bits of me I had let my friends see were a result of hard work and perseverance on their part; and although I didn't have many friends, those I did have, I cherished. I knew my feelings were reciprocated to the enth degree, even though some of them had a funny way of showing it.

I was brought back to reality by giggling girls out in the hallway. I checked though my email as I sipped my tea before first period—I hadn't been near that Starbucks all week, in fact, I was even taking another route to school to bypass the coffee shop all together for fear of running into Mr. Venti again, literally. Sitting there in my inbox was an Evite reminder for Peter's birthday BBQ tomorrow night. I had already accepted the invite, but wondered if anyone would notice if I just didn't show up. I hated those get-togethers with a house full of people trying to talk over the loud music and one another. These parties always left me feeling awkward and out of place. Just as I was mulling through my list of good excuses to back out of the evening all together, the schrill voice of Cyndi Lauper's _Girls Just Want To Have Fun_ began resonating out of my purse. _Damn you, Alice_! Stupid ringtone was embarrassing and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to change it.

Before I could even say Hello, a high-pitched squeal pierced my eardrum,

"Don't you even think about bailing tomorrow night!" she spoke sternly into the phone.

"What are you going on about, and why are you calling me this early in the morning and why is my phone even on?" I demanded, my voice rising with each question.

"I turned it on last night, silly, I knew you'd never have it on, it's a wonder you even know how to answer the damn thing." She said as though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Damn it, Alice! You went digging through my purse to turn my phone on for me? Doesn't that seem a bit much to you?" I whined; I knew I wasn't winning this one. From the moment I answered that phone, my Friday night was planned out to a T.

"We haven't really seen you in ages, if you think you're going to bail on Peter's party, you are so wrong!" she stated.

"How did you know I was going to bail?" curiosity getting the better of me.

"I knew you'd second guess going as soon as you saw the Evite reminder, am I right?" it was more of a statement than a question, so I didn't bother trying to come up with a good excuse.

"So you're coming over before and you'll come with Jasper and me to the party." She said, again, not a question and no room for discussion.

"Fine, Alice, but I hate these things, I never know anyone and I always feel like a God damned pariah or a leper that no one wants to talk to, besides, the water is supposed to be super calm tomorrow and I haven't paddled all week…" I wasn't even able to finish voicing that thought before it was kyboshed.

"BELLA! You paddled all summer in that damned boat, practically forgetting that we even existed, there is no way in hell you are passing up a night with your friends for a fucking kayak!" she spoke with eerie calm, this was angry Alice and she didn't often come out to play. I knew enough to appease her or else…

"Christ, fine, Alice, I'll head over after work tomorrow and we can catch up a bit before Peter's, are you happy?" I whined, completely crumbling and giving her everything she wanted.

"Exstatic!" she chirped, eerie calm replaced by her normal singsong voice.

"Oh, and bring the blue top I gave you, you're wearing that and some skinny jeans tomorrow", she went on.

"Nope, not wearing that top, not tomorrow, not ever if I can help it", I mumbled the last part.

"Why the hell not, it's an awesome top and you'll look fabulous in it, for fuck sakes, I made the damn thing just for you" she sounded exasperated again.

"I had a bit of an accident with a hot cup of coffee on Monday morning and still have the marks to prove it, so I'm ixnaying the top", this was one I wasn't budging on, and no one would be seeing the results of my run-in with Mr. Venti.

"What? Are you OK?" she asked, worry clear in her voice, "and you don't drink coffee" she said.

"Not my coffee and it's a long story," I say as the warning bell rings and students begin to file into class, "Alice, I have to go, that was the bell", I say.

"Rain check on the mishap, and I'll expect you tomorrow after work, bye sweetie!" she yells as I hang up.

I hang up and have to ask a student how to turn the damn phone off. I get a few snide giggles at my expense, _whatever_, I think to myself, and then roll my eyes at the fact that I'm even beginning to inner-monologue in teenager language.

I don't get much down time until I'm headed home at the end of the day. My walks down to the train station are my favorite time of the workday, sometimes, it's the only time the sun hits my face during the day. I usually put my ear buds in and find a song I'm in the mood for as I make the 20-minute trek down to the station to catch my ride home. I tend to zone out into my own little world, daydreaming, or scratching things off my mental to-do list. Lately, however, I've spent the majority of those walks daydreaming of green eyes. It's a good thing I have headphones on because as I catch myself mumbling a one-sided conversation, I pretend that I'm just singing along to my music. _Seriously, what would I say to him if I ever saw him again? I mean really, the guy probably has no freaking clue who I am and that I've been obsessing about him since Monday morning. I mean it's not like I'm a standout or anything_. Ahh, blessed reality check, how I missed you.

Friday morning I am jolted awake from yet another restless dream. Those God damned green eyes are haunting me now. I look over at my clock only to see that it's 4am and I'm so rattled that I know I won't be falling back asleep. Maybe an early morning paddle will help clear my head. I smile as I get up to check the weather conditions in the bay.

Standing on the canoe club dock at 4:45 in the morning is humbling. As I place my boat in the water and slip on my life jacket, I take a deep breath and relax quite possibly for the first time all week. This past summer, Rose and Alice suggested I sign up for paddling classes at the canoe club as a way to meet new people. It had been a toss up between kayaking and dragon boating and I went with the former because they said it would be much more of a workout in my own boat. I had laughed at their logic, seeing as neither one had ever set foot in a boat, much less on a dock. Besides, I knew their endgame; they were hoping I'd meet a guy.

If I said I took to kayaking like a fish takes to water, well, I'd be lying my pants off. Balance had never been one of my strong suits, and kayaking was all about balance. I spent the entire first month falling out of and climbing back into my boat. My instructor even asked me if I wanted to switch to dragon-boating as she was sure I'd get more out of it. Hell bent on proving her wrong, I worked my ass off to stay in my boat, class after class. Although tipping my slender and me sopping wet were common occurrences at the club, I managed to finally get it, one month into the three-month program. By the time July rolled around, I had graduated from a slender to a viper, which was much faster and easier to tip—not that I had tipped in a couple months. Kayaking had become my thing. I was good at it. I fell in love with it. Much to Alice's chagrin, her "get Bella to meet a guy" plan had backfired. If I wasn't at home sleeping, I was down at the canoe club or off somewhere paddling. I mostly paddled alone, unless I was working out on the cardio circuit, and I enjoyed my solitude.

As I quietly slipped into my viper and paddled away from the dock, a loon calling out joined me. As I cut through the mirror-like water was mesmerized by the peace and tranquility of the morning. I did my best thinking on the water and this morning was no exception. I had to come up with a way of putting Monday's accident behind me. There was no way I would ever be seeing this guy again. I mean realistically, there were over 4 million people here, what were the odds that I would ever meet him, let alone bump into him again?

_How do you get your mind off a guy, regardless of whether you know him or not_? According to Alice, you replace him with another guy. As long as there is a guy there, your subconscious doesn't care whether he has the most incredible eyes ever or not. Logical right? Alice was brilliant, but brilliance did not imply logic in my book. Maybe Alice was right though; maybe I should finally go on one of those dates she was always itching to set me up on. I'd meet someone incredible and forget all about incredible eyes, right? Something incredible canceled out another incredible every time… right? After an hour-long paddle around the sound, I headed home to get ready for work.

By noon, I was seriously regretting my morning jaunt on the water. I even resorted to locking my classroom door—something I never did, just to take a 20-minute power nap. I was looking less and less forward to tonight's festivities and I honestly had no idea how I was going to make it to Alice's let alone Peter and Charlotte's. At least I had had the foresight to pack my things for the party and bring them with me so that I could head straight to Alice's from work, otherwise, a pit stop home would have most definitely signaled the end of my day.

Alice was sitting, waiting on her front stoop for me like a puppy waits for its master to return home from work. Although her smile faltered slightly when she took in the dark circles under my eyes and my unacceptable attire, her squeal of excitement was genuine when she threw her arms around me for one of her special "mama-hugs".

"We are going to have so much fun tonight, I just know it!" she exclaimed.

"Seriously, I have a feeling this is gonna be one for the history books…" she continued despite my skeptical look.

Alice, bless her soul, had a pitcher of sangria with some munchies waiting for us as me made our way into the living room and plopped down on what I thought were the world's most comfortable couches. I sighed in anticipation of the grilling I knew I was about to get. _Might as well just get it over with_, I thought as I was trying to figure out just how much information I wanted to share. Before I could even get a sound out, she handed over a glass filled to the rim with sangria and fruit.

"I don't want to hear anything until that glass is empty" she stated as she got up and left the room.

Well, if I didn't have to talk until I finished my drink, then I would nurse the hell of this beverage and not have to speak all night long. _I mean, how is that different than any other night I go out with these guys_? I wondered. Between Alice's pixie-like positivity, Rose's no bullshit, tell-it-like-it-is mentality, and Emmet's boisterous, nothing-ever-gets-me-down attitude, I rarely was expected to lead the discussion let alone contribute. In fact the only one that was anywhere near my level of quietness was Jasper, and I think that was just to offset Alice's intensity. Besides, Jasper was intense in his own way; it just happened to be the opposite of what Alice was.

I was brought out of my reverie by a sudden case of the hiccups. When I looked down to my glass, it was still pretty full. _Wait a minute_, I thought as I tried, and failed to focus on the amount of sangria left in the pitcher. Sure enough, I was feeling rather buzzed and mellow as I realized that I had drank almost an entire pitcher of sangria to myself in a little over an hour. Although I disagreed with her methods, Alice always knew how to get me to unwind, and today, her chosen method was truth serum itself—and she wasted no time commencing the interrogation.

"Are the nightmares back?" she asked in a quiet voice, sipping a glass of red wine.

"Greenest eyes…" was my muffled reply.

When she realizes that I hadn't even heard her question, she tried again, "You never mentioned green eyes before, since when have they been a part of it?" curiosity clear in her question.

"Wait, what? No, not nightmares again, I haven't had one in a couple months" I clarify.

"Then why do you look like you've decided to forgo sleep, and what's this to do with green eyes anyway? We don't know anyone with green eyes..." she prods on.

So I steel myself, take a deep breath, and recount everything to her from the collision in the cafe, to the burns, to the dreams, leaving nothing out. Alice remains utterly silent, not even attempting to interrupt once, and I am too invested in the baring of my heart and soul that I miss a golden opportunity for some serious mockery. I finish off the rundown of my week detailing my Ah-ha moment on the water this morning where I'm finally willing to let her set me up with somebody in hopes of meeting my someone interesting.

Taking another deep breath when I finish, I wait for the high-pitched scream that will not doubt come at any moment as I've finally succumbed to Alice's dream of playing matchmaker for me. _Any moment now_, I cringe in anticipation. When the silence becomes uncomfortable, I peek up only to see Alice starring at me with tear-rimmed eyes, "You got burned again, how bad? Are you alright?" she sputters. At this I close my eyes and silently curse my luck that she would clue into the one section of the story I was hoping I had glossed over.

"Not too bad, just hot coffee, and nothing compared to what was already there" I state without emotion.

"That's why you won't wear the top I made you isn't it? It's too revealing right?" she guesses. _Brilliant and perceptive, if not entirely logical—that's what Alice is, and I'd be best not to forget it_ I chide myself.

"Yeah, too much skin for my liking Ali, sorry, I didn't have the heart to tell you. The shirt is beautiful and if I wasn't so… I might try to do this little creation of yours justice", I whisper.

"I figured as much, but I thought I'd give it a try, because, well, you are beautiful and beautiful people need beautiful things" she states in a matter-of-fact kind of way. From anyone else, that comment might have come off as conceited, but Alice is anything but.

"And", she continued "because I know you better than anyone else, I made this one for you too as a back up, with a little more material" she says as she throws another shirt my way.  
My smile is instantaneous as I admire her newest creation.

"Oh, Alice, it's perfect!" I gush as I get up to go change. Unfortunately, I momentarily forget about the pitcher full of sangria I have just consumed and as I stand, I manage to go over my ankle and tumble back down onto the couch. I have mentioned how damn much I love those couches, because I believe that bears repeating.

After what feels like a roller coaster ride of emotion during our "chat", Alice takes control of the evening as only Alice can. She dresses me and makes me up and declares me perfect. Maybe it's the booze, or the beautiful cobalt, shimmery shirt she's created for me, but for the first time in a long time, I'm inclined to agree. _Not bad, not bad at all_, I think to myself. My buoyant mood can't even be sunk when she tells me that one of the guys she's desperate to hook me up with will be at Peter's birthday party.

**Felt like the right place to end it. Please ****review**** and let me know what you think.**

**Next chapter will be EPOV and they'll finally meet (I'm a little excited about this).**


	3. Chapter 3

**Brace yourselves, this is a long one. Very thankful that I've had so many hits! I hope you enjoy this one. Not sure if I did the fellow justice or not, but here it is…**

Chapter 3

EPOV

_We are the ultimate consumers_. I realize this as I sit at a red light behind the wheel of a nice car, wearing a suit, which is probably worth more than I made last year that is incidentally unbelievably itchy. The suit is coupled with a tie that is so terribly constricting that I'm beginning to see spots.

_I miss my bike_, I think as yet another light turns to red and I haven't moved an inch.

_I miss the heat, the sunny days, the kids, I miss…_ and I don't allow myself to finish that thought. That life is in the past and this is a new beginning.

I'm jolted back to the traffic jam that is now my life by an elderly lady in her car honking and no doubt cussing up a storm at my inattention. _This fucking city…_I make a snap decision and pull into an empty space in front of a Starbucks. My first shift at the hospital doesn't start until 8am, and I skipped breakfast, not sure I would be able to keep anything down because of the nerves. I haven't had to impress people or even work to get ahead for a long time. I'm probably rusty as hell unless you count the schistozomiasis, malaria, or HIV/AIDS I've been surrounded by for last couple years. No laparoscopies or bypass surgeries on the savannah.

I quietly slip into the coffee shop and take a deep breath. As much as I hate being back in civilization, I do love the smell of coffee. After a few breaths, I feel my anxiety level go down a few notches.

"Can I take you order sir?" an overly made up blond says.

"Yeah, I'll have a coffee and a raisin bran muffin, please" I say as politely as I can, still frazzled by traffic this morning.

"Ah, sir, what kind of coffee do you want? We kind of have lots", she says, looking extremely confused.

"The strong, black kind", I answer, enunciating slowly.

"_Okayyyy_" she still looks confused. "What size do you want?" she finishes.

"_A large one_", I reply, exasperation clear in my voice.

"Do you mean a Venti, sir?" she clarifies.

"Oh, just give the largest, strongest, blackest coffee you have, Jesus!" I plead.

As I move down the line to get my coffee, I can hear someone sigh impatiently behind me. I turn around to survey the damage and see a woman, probably my age, looking at me slack-jawed.  
"I'm really sorry," I say smiling sheepishly.

"That's alright, you're definitely worth the wait," she says as she touches my upper arm.

"Venti Kitamu", a girl behind the counter yells, thankfully saving me from having to converse with the touchy-feely lady behind me.

"Did anyone order a venti Kitamu?" she asks again, annoyance creeping into her tone.

"Sir, is this yours?" she continues to question, smiling as she looks at me.

"I don't know, I ordered a large, black coffee" I reply, having no idea what a Kitamu is, let alone what language she's speaking.

"Hold on a second", she says as she asks the girl at the cash what I ordered. She proceeds to write something on the coffee cup and hands it to me with smile, a wink, and a parting "Enjoy…" that she practically purrs at me.

I grab the cup, noticing that she scribbled her name and most likely her phone number on it and mumble a quiet "thanks" as I head towards the door.

_Could this morning get any worse?_ I think to myself as I put my sunglasses back on and head out the door. I'm staring at Heidi's name on my coffee cup, second guessing whether coming back home was a mistake or not when my large, black, piping hot coffee gets knocked over by some moron coming into the shop—clearly not paying attention either.

"For Christ's sake!" I yell, hoping that none of the coffee made its way onto my white dress shirt.

Yup, there it is, coffee on the cuff of my shirt. Incensed, I practically yell, "What the hell is your problem? Damn it, look what you've done!" _just great, I'm going to be the new guy who knows nothing _and_ can't even drink coffee without spilling it all over himself_, I think. I'm brought out of my reverie by a very quiet chanting, almost moaning,

"_Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow"_, says the voice, and I'm so startled by its softness that I remove my sunglasses and immediately look up to see who it belongs to.

Standing in front of me is this petite woman, so frail looking that a brisk wind might send her crashing over. Her hair is a rich mahogany, and it surrounds her face in gentle waves. I can't make out her face yet as she's looking down at the steaming coffee all over her shirt.

I can't help but gasp at the realization that I'm to blame for her obvious pain.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, this is completely my fault. Are you alright?" I sputter. When she hears my voice again, she looks up with a slight frown, as if she's trying to figure out something complicated.

The myriad of emotions flitting across her face might be comical under normal circumstances. Hell, I can even see tears pooling in her eyes. The thought that I am the reason these tears are present is nauseating, and I have to fight the bile that rises in my throat. For some unknown reason, I can't bear the idea that I have hurt this girl—this girl that doesn't look like she can defend herself on a good day, let alone one where she is covered in scalding coffee. She should be protected from the douchebags of the world, and I can't help the fleeting thought that _I_ want to be the one to protect her. I'm abruptly brought out of my reverie by her sweet, soft voice again,  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" she mumbles as she begins to back away from me.

Instincts kick in and I shuffle out of my sports coat to cover her up—to protect her, but she's backing away from me. _Wait, why is she apologizing_? I wonder. As she slowly backs away, those huge dark eyes never once straying from their mark, like a meerkat caught in the stare of a snake. It dawns on me suddenly that this fragile, little creature is scared of me. I'm desperate now to get her to stay with me, so that I can make sure she's alright; so much so that I say the first things that come to mind,

"Wait, are you alright? Can I drop you anywhere? What's your name?" I yell at her retreating figure. Whether she doesn't hear me or chooses to ignore me, I'm not sure, but she doesn't turn around. As she rounds the corner at the end of the block, I rush to my car to try and get to her, to see if I can apologize for hurting her, yelling at her, embarrassing her, my choices are seemingly endless at this point. When I finally make to the end of the block, through the snarl that is morning traffic, my meerkat is nowhere to be seen. "Son of a bitch!" I scream to the top of my lungs as I slam my hands against the steering wheel.

In a defeated daze, I drive up to the hospital, forgoing any additional stops on the way. Luckily, I'm only a couple blocks away so I still manage to make it with time to spare. As I ease into my allotted space, I notice the black Mercedes in the space next to mine. _Thank God Carlisle is here, bastard's probably been here since daybreak_. Although I know I'll be a capable surgeon again, I have no doubts as to why I was offered the highly coveted opening. Uncle Carlisle's been at this hospital for over twenty years and he's managed to mould the surgical department into one of the finest in North America. I know I'm a favor he's called in, and although it pisses me off that I have to ride on someone else's coat tails, I'm thankful for the opportunity and the friendly face.

As I make my way to the elevator bank, I spot a coffee vending machine. Even though I know it will be disgusting, I need caffeine and right now, and this is the only source available to me. As I insert some change into the machine and make my selection, I hear a familiar chuckle behind me,

"You know, there's a Starbucks down the street that sells actual coffee, drinking this stuff is liable to get you an appointment in gastro," Carlisle says laughingly.

"I _know_, I tried to get a coffee there this morning, but apparently, it wasn't in the cards. This shit will have to do until lunch," I grumble.

"Your funeral," he says as he musses my hair and leads me to the elevators.

"So how are you settling?" he asks.

"Not bad, just not use to all the excess. Thanks for getting the apartment set up, by the way," I say, turning to look at him.

"Oh, I won't take credit for that, Esme and Alice have made that place of yours their little project for over a month now, in fact, I should be the one apologizing for giving them free reign," he says with another chuckle.

"So I have Alice to thank for all the clothes then?" I ask.

"Indeed, most of it is from her shop, she says she's been itching to dress you for years," he says laughingly. "Seriously though, are you adjusting well? I know this is a completely different world then the one you've become accustomed to," he says softly.

"I'm still having a hard time sleeping on my bed, so I've ah, been using a Thermorest on the floor since I moved in," I mention.

"Have you checked in with Dr. Banner yet?" he prods.

"Yeah, all my tests came back negative, I've been cleared." I state.

"Good, and Dr. Allistair?" he asks without missing a beat.

"I left a message," I reply.

"Edward, you have to talk to someone. What happened wasn't your fault. It's alright to lean on someone from time to time," he says as he places a hand on my shoulder.

I immediately stiffen at the contact and shrug out from under his hand; it's a knee-jerk reaction these days. If he notices, and I'm sure he does—nothing gets by Carlisle, he doesn't get offended.

"Right, well, Esme wants you at the house for Sunday dinner, I was told to pass on the request. Oh, and have you seen Alice or Emmet since you've been back?" he graciously changes the subject.

"Nah, I haven't seen them yet, I think they're expecting me in later in the week, we're supposed to meet up at Peter's on Friday," I mention.

"Ah yes, Peter's infamous backyard-birthday-BBQ, I do hope he makes it through in one piece this year," Carlisle sighs. No doubt well versed in Peter and Emmet's shenanigans. I should be surprised by this comment, but I'm not. Besides, I vaguely remember something about suturing Peter needed from a birthday bocci tournament last year while I was overseas. I'm brought out of my musing as Carlisle places his hand on my shoulder again and gives it a squeeze,

"I'm right here if you need me son," he all but whispers.

"I know," I sigh and place my hand over his, returning the gesture.

I spend my morning rounding with Carlisle and his team of interns. I find that I'm not as rusty as I thought I would be and this is good, as I will be on my own in a couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to the afternoon, when I will be playing around with the newest laparoscopy equipment, getting reacquainted as it were. By the time we finish rounding, lunch is upon us and I realize that I have not stopped in over four hours. My lack of breakfast makes me ravenous as I head down to the cafeteria to grab some food and a well-needed breather.

I find a table in the corner by the window and sit down with my back to the room with hopes that I will truly have some time to myself, without having to make idle chitchat with anyone else. I open up my copy of the Times and turn to the international section. My eyes are immediately drawn to a picture of a meerkat staring off into the distance with a caption about the decline of South African populations linked to global warming. Although I'm certain the article is worth reading, it doesn't capture my attention; rather it's the meerkat's big, sad eyes, staring off into the distance that have my total focus. _I looked into eyes just like that this morning_, I think.

Most people will tell you that brown eyes are so often nondescript, and I would agree; but not these eyes. _Her_ eyes are so unique that you can't help but remember them; little flecks of gold, like lightning bolts spreading from the pupil toward the outer iris. Eyes rimmed with tears, magnifying their depth and beauty. And face so perfect, that you thank the powers that be that it exists and that you were blessed enough to see it. The tiny V that formed between her eyes when she looked up at me with a confused look; what I wouldn't give to smooth out those frown lines and take her worries away. Someone that fragile shouldn't have to worry about anything. _My meerkat_, I think as I come to the realization that I simply _have _to see her again. I spend the rest of my lunch hour formulating a plan to try and find her. She obviously works in the area near the coffee shop; maybe she's a regular? That's it then, the plan is to troll the coffee shop in hopes that she returns. Then what? _We'll deal with that when the time comes, find her first!_ I whisper to myself.

By Friday morning, I'm defeated and wondering if my meerkat is nothing but a figment of my imagination. I've spent so much time at the coffee shop that Heidi the barista thinks we're dating. The only plus to this is that she gives me free coffee. My meerkat hasn't once entered the shop, or even walked by on the street; I've positioned myself near the front of the store and looked at passers by, hoping to catch a glimpse of mahogany hair. I even stare at people on buses driving by! Short of taking an ad out in the Times, the coffee shop is my only lead, and I've come to the realization that I've hit a dead end. To say that I am discouraged is the understatement of the century; I am defeated, I thought our meeting meant something, like it was fate or destiny that we bumped into one another that morning. _Who am I kidding? That crap only exists in movies and fairytales—pure make-believe_, I scold myself. I'm jarred out of my downward spiral by the sound of Peer Gynt as my phone rings in my pocket.

"Hey Em, long time," I say.

"Jackwad, when were you gonna tell us you were in town? Alice is pretty pissed that she had to find out from Daddy C that you've been here _all week_," scolds Emmet.

"Sorry man, I just had to get my shit together, jet lag, new place, you know?" I say, downplaying the shit friend I've been.

"Whatever man, we both know that's not why, but it's cool. We still on for Peter's tonight? It's gonna be a shit-show!" he exclaims. Bless Emmet and his easygoing ways. He's loyal to a fault, and never gets in anyone's business. Too damn bad his sister is the complete opposite.

"Yeah, I'm in. I should be done here around 4pm. Want me to head out to your place before we hit Pete's? I can pick up some beer and pizza if you like," I offer as appeasement. The way to Emmet's heart and his good graces has always been caloric. Give him beer and pizza and everything is right with the world.

"Awesome E.T.!" he exclaims. _Mission accomplished_, I think. It will be so much easier dealing with Alice if I have Emmet on my side.

"Damn it, Em, I hate it when you call me that," I sigh, exasperated. He's called me that since we were kids and saw E.T. at the movies. Although I don't get it, he delights in it and it never fails to make him laugh.

"I gotta get back to work, later bro! Oh, and ah, it's nice to have you back." He stammers.

"Thanks Em, it's good to be back," I say, "I'll see you later bro," I finish as I hang up.

The afternoon passes in a blur as I complete my training on the laparoscopy equipment. I was given a variety of scenarios ranging from a gall bladder removal to an emergency spleenectomy. By the time 4pm rolls around, I'm pretty confident in my skills on the machinery. Carlisle praises me and I take the complements, knowing that I've earned them. I head back to my apartment for a quick shower and change, certain that Emmet is timing me; and the longer it takes me to get there with his sustenance, the more trouble I'll be in.

At 5:20pm, I pull into Emmet and Rose's place. They live in a farmhouse at the university's satellite campus. It's always amazes me how quiet and country-like the place is considering is only 20 minutes from downtown. Emmet lucked into the place when he was hired on as head of buildings and grounds at the university after finishing his degree there. He met Rose at school while she was working on her PhD. They were married just before I left and have since had a little girl. Despite getting constant updates, photos, and videos of her, I have yet to meet my goddaughter Katherine—or Kate as we've taken to calling her.

"Hello, anyone home?" I ask as I push open the front door, arms full of pizza and beer.

"We're in here," says my sister-in-law of sorts "Who's there Katie-bear?" she coos.

I walk into the kitchen and drop the pizzas on the counter and the case of beer on the floor. I barely have enough time to turn around when I'm hit with such force, that I stumble back into the counter. Rose has me in one of her break-neck embraces. As I place my arms around her and gently hug her back, I can feel her whole body shaking. It's only when she finally releases me a good two minutes later that I realize the shaking was really her crying. Although she'd deny it in a heartbeat, the sight of her tears warms me, because I know I've truly been missed. I also instantly feel like a sack of shit because to instill such a reaction in Rosalie Hale-Cullen can only mean one thing: I've worried her greatly.

"Come over here, there's someone I'd like you to meet, Edward," she says as she wipes her eyes.

Sitting in her high chair, eating her chicken, peas, and carrots is the loveliest little girl. She looks up at me and breaks out into a heart-melting smile. She is truly her parents' daughter in that she has Rose's blond locks, and Emmet's sky blue eyes and ringlets.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Katie," I say as I stick my hand out for her to shake it, not knowing what else to do.

"For Christ's sake, Edward, she a year old infant, not a business associate," Rose chuckles.

"Go wash your hands and you can finish feeding her. I have to get shit ready for the babysitter." She says as she walks out of the room.

"I don't know what to do here," I call after her.

"You don't have to do anything, just make sure she doesn't choke," she yells back.

I look down at Katie, who is smiling as she plays with her peas and whisper "Please don't choke."

"So how ya been, man?" Emmet asks between bites of pizza.

I stare at him momentarily awed by how much food he can consume. He's managed to finish off an entire pie to himself, whereas Rose and I are nibbling away at the other, barely making a dent. Katie is playing with blocks and stacking cups on her play mat.

"I've been alright," I say lamely, we all know this is a lie.

"Sure you have," says Rose sarcastically, "that's why we haven't heard from you in five months, and you waited an entire week before getting in touch with us when you got back…" she looks like she's about to continue with the calling out, but is abruptly cut off by Emmet,

"Rose," he says warningly, "enough."

"Bullshit, Emmet!" she barks back. "He needs to know cutting us out of his life has hurt us—hurt you. He needs to know that dropping off the face of the Earth for the last five months because of what happened over there nearly killed you with worry. He needs to know that his way of dealing with shit sucks—because he's so obviously _not_ better. He also needs to know that, much to my chagrin, you'd probably give your left nut to save him…" she says with a straight face.

We both look at her a little slack-jawed and stunned. After a moment of silence, Emmet bursts in to a roar of laughter, and Rose and I can do nothing but follow in his footsteps.  
"I love you, baby" he says between guffaws as he reaches over and drags her back to sit in his lap. After the laughter has died away and I wipe my tears from my face, I look over at them both, my best friend and cousin with his soul mate, and I say the only thing I can, "I know," I whisper. Rose gets up, off of Emmet and sits down next to me wrapping me in another of her ferocious hugs and whispers "It's alright," over and over to me in a soothing tone. I can tell that she's rehearsed this little speech for some time. But just like Emmet, once Rosalie's said her piece, she doesn't hold grudges; she's done.

After some more food, drink, and idle chat about this and that, the babysitter arrives and we head out to Peter and Charlotte's. I cave to peer pressure and decide to crash at their place, so we head to the party together. For the first time in a long time, I'm feeling good about a well-deserved night out. Peter, Emmet, Jasper, and I go way back. We all went to prep school together and caused our fair share of trouble. Peter's backyard-BBQs were legendary for their laughs and their debauchery. Emmet is quite literally bouncing in his seat as Rose pulls up to the house—so much so that the car is rocking this way and that.

"Emmet, do I have to remind you that you promised me no trips to the hospital and absolutely _no_ funneling beverages of any kind?" she says patiently, as though she is speaking to a toddler. Before he can answer, her phone beeps with a text.

"Alice is already here with Jazz _and_ she managed to drag Bella out," she says with surprise.

"You're kidding," says Emmet, followed quickly by "Rose, I promise not to be a drunken douchebag, can we go in now? _Pleeease_?" he whines.

The front door opens before us, and there stands Peter, all 6'5" of him, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and kilt, no doubt going commando.

"Boys, what the fuck took you so long?" he roars "Been waitin' for a birthday like this for three years now!" he bellows, slapping Emmet on the back and giving me a bone-crushing bear hug, "How ya been fucker?" he asks so that only I can hear.

"I'm where I need to be now buddy, thanks for asking," I say equally as low.

We make our way into the house, only to hear Emmet yell at the top of his lungs, "Let the season of Peter begin!"

I shake my head laughing at the shit show that is about to commence. As I walk into the living room, I look around and try to take inventory of who's here. That's when my eyes fall on someone standing at the other end of the room, in the corner. She's looking right at me with those big, brown eyes and that thick mane of mahogany hair. She gasps and the little V between her eyes is back.

"My meerkat," I whisper.

"What was that, Edward?" Rose asks as she squeezes by me into the room.

"Nothing." I say and quickly walk the other way towards the back yard to regroup.

"Should I tell Alice you're here?" she calls after me.

"Knowing her, she already knows," I say as I retreat to the backyard.

The boys are already immersed in a game of washers—I'm told it's similar to horseshoes and Peter invented it, the patent is pending. I claim an Adirondack chair and a beer and sit down. _Of all the gin joints__ in all the towns in all the_ _world__, she walks into mine. I mean seriously, what are the odds that we'd be at the same party and most likely know the same people?_ I have to at least speak to her tonight. I know that she recognized me and she must know that I recognized her. Emmet doing a victory dance, claiming to be king of the world, brings me back to the here and now. I take a deep breath and rise from the chair only to come face-to-face with Alice.

"I spoke to Rose, so I won't tear a strip off you, seeing as she already has," she says, her tone as serious as I've ever seen it.

"Come here and hug me and tell me I'm still your favorite," I say as I wrap my arms around her and lift her off the ground.

"I missed you so much, you big jerk," she says as she sighs.

"Oh, and Carlisle says I have you to thank for the clothes and the apartment," I continue.

"Clothes, yes, apartment, mom did most of it," her voice is muffled because her face is still buried in my shoulder.

"Alice darlin', don't tell me you're leaving me for this sack of shit," drawls a voice I realize I've missed dearly. I lower Alice to the ground and stick my hand out for Jazz to shake.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, a hand shake, really?" he asks with mock hurt. He clasps his arms around me and pulls me into an honest-to-goodness man hug, complete with the token back slaps.

"Welcome home, friend, welcome home," he says.

"Thanks Jazz," I say easing myself out of the hug.

I take courage from my friends and quietly excuse myself on the pretense of a bathroom break to go hunt down my meerkat. _It's now or never_, I tell myself. As I enter the house from the sliding patio door, I quickly scan the room for her. There she is, standing in the corner again, only this time, she isn't alone. Some guy I probably should know is standing in front of her trying, desperately I might add, to capture her attention. I'm about to go over and butt in when he strokes her cheek from temple to chin and proceeds to put his arm around her as they welcome a couple more people into their discussion. My feet are rooted to the ground and I can move no further. Realization hits me that these two are probably together. I mean, there is no way that my meerkat is single; she's hands down, the loveliest girl in the room. As if she senses me looking at her, she turns and meets my stare head on. Any gumption I had has deserted me. I turn on my heel to make my escape to the safety of the back yard, when I all but crash into Jazz who is looking at me strangely.

"Sorry, my bad," I mumble as I rush out of the house, to the back yard.

I make my way back to my chair on the deck and I'm not sitting for long when a bottle of beer appears over my left shoulder.

"I figured you could use one of these," says Jasper in an even tone. "Mind telling what just happened in there," he gently asks.

I take a few deep breaths to calm myself before I ask, "Who's the blond guy in there?" I say, trying desperately not to give anything away.

"You mean Newton?" he asks.

"Don't know who Newton is, but I'm talking about the guy who was all over the little brunette in the corner," I say and I can feel myself getting worked up again.

"Mike Newton, parents own a shit load of sporting goods stores, I think he might manage one or something," replies Jasper.

"And the girl, who is she?" I ask refusing to look at him.

"That'd be our little Isabella. She and Alice are pretty tight." He says, and I can't help but pick up on the protective tone of his voice. _So it's not just me, she gives off this helpless vibe to everyone_, I think feeling both relieved and displeased at the same time.

"How long has she been around?" I ask, "I don't remember her." Sure that I could _never_ forget a face like that.

"She and Em met at grad school, and she's been with us ever since," he says.

That explains why I've never seen her before; I left the summer before Emmet started grad school. I wonder if we'd be friends now if I had stayed.

"Are she and Slim Shady, I mean Newton, together?" I ask, not able to look him in the eye.

"I sure as fuck hope not," he says with a little more gusto than I'm used to hearing from Jasper.

I let out a breath I don't even know I'm holding and mumble "Thank fuckin' God."

"Alice had the genius idea of trying to set her up with him. How she could even picture them together is beyond me, Bells is so much better than that moron," he adds.

"And between you and me, I don't think she can stand the guy, but she's probably too damn nice and shy to tell him to take his employee discount bullshit and shove it," this is the most worked up I can _ever_ remember seeing Jasper.

"Easy tiger, tell me how you really feel about the boy," I joke, trying to lighten the mood. I don't know why, but the thought of her not being into that piss ant brings a smile to my face. Who am I kidding; I know exactly why I'm smiling.

"Why are _you_ so interested, anyway?" he asks, effectively wiping said smile _off_ my face.

"No reason, I just didn't know who they were, that's all," I say as nonchalantly as I can.

"Sure, sure," he replies with an all-knowing smirk. Jasper; one of the most well read people I've ever met.

"What's going on out here? What are you two talking about?" asks Alice, stepping out of the house to join us.

Before I can shut down the conversation, Jasper blurts out "Oh, Edward here was just inquiring after our little Isabella and Mike Newton." Fucking Jasper. He's one fast son of a bitch.

I groan and flip him off because I know we've just unleashed the fury that is Alice, and there's no going back.

"Really!" she exclaims. "In hindsight, that set up was disastrous."

"Relax, Alice. I just wondered who she was, that's all," I try to downplay my fascination with the girl lest I give fuel to Alice's fire.

"Tread carefully, cousin of mine," she says ominously.

"Alice, I have no intention of _treading_ anywhere near Isabella, so relax," I lie through my teeth.

"Surely she's enough to tempt even you, Edward, come on; she's got the face of an angel _and_ the rest of her is pretty damn seraphic as well," she states matter-of-factly.

_Oh don't I know it_, "Fine Alice, she got a pretty face, I'll grant you, but I'm not in the mood to chase after anyone, especially someone who bats her eyelashes at the biggest moron in the room!" I exclaim.

Jasper and Alice both stare at me as if I've grown another head. Alice looks as if I've slapped across the face.

"You know what, Edward?" she asks, her voice rising, "You're a rotten liar, you always have been!" she huffs, turns, and stomps back into the house.

"What gives bro?" Jasper asks, still looking stunned.

"It's for the best Jazz, I'm no good for a girl like that—damaged goods bother, damaged goods," I sigh and shake my head in defeat.

"I wish to fuck I knew what you were talking about Ed, but I'll tell you this; Bella is good people. And you more than the rest of us, could use some good," he pats my shoulder as he walks towards the house, looking for Alice most likely.

I sit alone on the deck for a long time, just thinking about the last five months of my life. I've been a shell of myself for so long now that I'm beginning to forget what I was like. Although I dreaded coming home, back to the life I had, I know that it's for the best. These people knew the old me, the one full of laughs and life—certainly not the person I've become. Maybe that's why my meerkat terrifies me so. In the past week, I've felt things that have been absent or at the very least dormant in me for so long now, that I don't even know how to respond to them. My meerkat is an unknown entity, and we are always terrified of the unknown aren't we? I gaze up at the full moon for what seems like forever, then I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them, I have found my resolve. _Get to know the unknown_, and seeing as there is no time like the present, I rise from my safe haven on the deck and make my way back into the house to join the party.

Inside, the party is in full swing. The boys have rolled the ping-pong table into the living room and are playing beer pong, while most of the girls are sitting around laughing and chatting. I make my way into the kitchen to grab another beer. Charlotte is busy lighting the candles on Peter's cake. I offer to help and we chat about nothing and everything while we work. I hold the door open for her as people crowd around Peter and sing at the top of their lungs. After a lengthy speech and a few lewd wishes, Peter blows put his candles and there is cake for everyone.

It quiets down for a spell while everyone is eating and chatting. I take the opportunity to scan the room for my meerkat. Luck is on my side as I spot her at the sound system riffling though Peter's music. _Here goes nothing_, I walk towards her praying that everyone else is too busy to notice what I'm about to do.

"Are you taking any requests?" I ask quietly over her shoulder.

Startled, she wheels around and looks at me, "What?" she says after she gasps.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I was just wondering if you were in charge of the music," I explain, speaking as softly as I can.

"Oh, no. I wouldn't even know how to turn this thing off let alone change the disc," she manages in that soft voice of hers.

I can't help the visual that pops into my head and I chuckle. I extent my hand to her and say, "Hello, my name is Edward Cullen".

She makes to take my hand and introduce herself, but before she can utter a word, our hands touch and the electric shock that passes through our joined hands startles us both.

"My apologies, can we try that again?" I ask with a chuckle.

Once again she takes my hand firmly and her melodic little voice washes over me, "I'm Isabella—Bella Swan," she says and flushes as though she's just said the most embarrassing thing in the world.

"Pleased to meet you Isabella-Bella," I chuckle.

As the flush on her face deepens from a dark pink to scarlet, she whispers "Just Bella," and I am in awe of this creature.

"What do you do for a living, Bella?" I ask, trying to keep her talking. If anything, I might be able to shed some light on where she works because I know it's close to the hospital.

"I'm a teacher," she says.

Clearly, conversing with strangers is not a favorite pastime of hers—getting her to offer up information about herself is like pulling teeth. I decide to change my game plan and run a new play; perhaps if I joke with her and tease her a little, she'll open up.

"Well, you know what they say about teachers don't you?" I ask.

"No, I don't," she answers as she squares her shoulders.

In any normal human being, with even the smallest ability to read social cues, alarms bells would be ringing at this point in the conversation; but not in this guy!

"You know; those who can't, teach," I say realizing too late that this is not going to be funny in the least.

"Oh, really?" she asks, "That's nice." She deadpans.

Before I can apologize, she excuses herself and quickly disappears.

"What in the _fuck_ was I thinking?" I ask out loud as I run my hands through my hair, attempting to pull it out.

Just as I'm about to go try to find her, that dumb blond of an idiot, Mike Newton walks up to me and asks,

"Hey buddy, have you seen a foxy little brunette around? I promised her some lovin' before I have to head out…" he mock punches my shoulder as he winks at me.

It takes absolutely _every_ ounce of strength I possess not to annihilate this man; instead I incoherently mumble something to him and walk away.

I stop by the kitchen and grad a bottle of scotch with plans of finding a corner where I can drown my sorrows and lick my wounds. As I slam a cupboard door closed, I hear a little gasp. I look over towards the sink and there she is, _doing dishes_ for Christ sake. Her eyes are red, clearly I've made her cry _again_.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" I whisper her words back to her as I slowly back out of the kitchen and away from her. This time, _I_ am the one fleeing. I find refuge in Emmet's car. Sitting in the backseat, drinking from my bottle, I realize just how stupid my comment about her profession was. _Bless hindsight and it's perfect vision_, I toast. After I've polished off half of the bottle in a relatively short amount of time, I lay back and let the night take me; and just before I fall into the black abyss of sleep, I realize that I forgot to apologize to her for the coffee. 

_Could I be anymore of a douchebag?_

**So, what did you think? Would you mind pressing the review button to let me know? I would **_**LOVE**_** some feedback. Not too sure if I'm going to keep writing both POVs… Oh, and happy thanksgiving!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Before we get to it, I've forgotten to give credit where credit is due… Stephenie Meyer owns the characters, but the rest of 'er is mine.**

**The story has received quite a few hits, alerts, and favorites, so THANK YOU! Is it too selfish to ask for more reviews though? **

Chapter 4

BPOV

Once we're ready, we make our way back to the living room where Alice turns up the music and busies herself making us more drinks.

Just as we're hitting our stride, singing the chorus to _Total Eclipse of the Heart_, I notice something near the front entrance move in my periphery. I turn as I'm about to belt out my line, and I spot Jasper leaning against the wall all slack-jawed, looking at us. My _I really need you tonight_ never makes it out of my mouth, causing Alice to turn to look at me in a huff, only to follow my gaze towards to the door.

"Hey babeeeee," she somewhat slurs.

"Darlin', you've bin drinkin'," he states with a slight chuckle.

"Yup" she beams at him as she stumbles her way over for a hug.

"Bellsie, you keepin' up with my girl?" he asks as he picks Alice up for a hug and kisses her on the temple.

"Yes, Sir," I mock salute.

This gets a full-blown guffaw from Jasper as he shakes his head. "So I guess I'm drivin' tonight, or we're cabbing it then," he states to no one in particular.  
"Baby, let's cab it, that way you can get right liquored up and celebrate with us!" exclaims Alice as she starts to bounce up and down.  
"Just what are we celebrating?" asks Jasper, still smiling.

"Bella's _finally_ letting me hook her up with Mike Newton! Oh, and Edward should be there tonight!" she adds almost as an afterthought.

"You've set her up with _Newton_?" he asks with a confused look on his face.

This reaction alone should be setting off alarm bells, but I can't feel my face much less pick up on non-verbal cues. Alice slaps him on the arm.  
"Go get ready, we have to head out soon," says Alice as she hands him a beer. Jasper smiles, cracks open his Sam Adams, takes a swig, and heads up the stairs, leaving us to our singing and dancing.

We're the first guests to arrive at Peter and Charlotte's. Charlotte welcomes into the house, and Alice and I offer to help her get some things finished up in the kitchen. Just when I think I've made my getaway, I hear Peter's booming laugh.  
"Well, well, Ali-cat, what have you done to our little Bella?" he asks between chuckles.  
"Alice decided to force-feed Bellsie-wellsie here mass quantities of alcohol, I came home to both of them hollerin' _Total Eclipse of the Heart_," laughs Jasper, "in fact, they were singing with such presence that even the neighbor's dog was howling to drown 'em out," he finishes between chuckles.  
"You know Bella, I think this is the first time I've ever seen you drunk," ponders Peter.

"For Christ's sake, you all act like I never do anything spontaneous or fun," I say with as serious a tone as I can manage. I'm going for a wounded look, and it probably would have been successful were it not for the hiccup at the end of my comment. This of course just fueled the boys' laughter, "This just might be the best birthday present _ever_!" exclaims Peter between thigh-slapping laughter.

Annoyed, I pick up a glass of red wine from the counter, raise it up over my head and toast Peter before downing the rest of the glass.

"I think I'll just get myself another glass of wine," says Charlotte with a smile, "you ladies want some?" she asks.  
"Yes please," Alice and I both reply in unison.

Half a bottle of wine later more people start arriving and I'm no longer feeling buzzed, I'm full on drunk. Some people turn into lushes when they drink, some people get violent. Apparently, alcohol is a mix between liquid courage and truth serum for me as I find myself getting weird stares from a few of the guests.  
"Alice, why in the hell is everyone looking at me funny?" I whisper.  
"They're not looking at you funny," she states.  
"Ah, look around, everyone is staring at me…" I say, panic rising.  
"Ok, I'll admit, lots of people are staring, but they're not looking at you _funny_," she clarifies.

"_Alice_", I whine.

"They've no doubt never seen you drunk before, let alone actually speaking to _anyone_ at these parties, so they're probably just shocked," she says as two men I'm sure I've been introduced to before walk by while looking me up and down, nodding their appreciation.  
"Well, maybe shocked and aroused, especially those two meat heads…" she amends.

"Get me the fuck out of here before I say or do something that'll embarrass the hell out of me." I beg.

"Chill out and lay off the wine, you'll be fine," she soothes, "besides, Rose and Em will be here soon and, oh, look! Mike just walked in!" exclaims Alice as she drags me out of my corner for introductions.

My attention is immediately drawn to a blond guy walking into the room saluting everyone like he's an officer in the army. I suppose he's not bad looking, just your blond-haired, stylin' guy wearing a brand named polo with the collar turned up—really? I'm no fashion diva, but I thought that fad had, well, faded. His jeans are no doubt brand name and they look like they're purposely dirty and ripped. This guy screams metrosexual and I can't help but wonder what Alice was thinking when she decided that he might be a good match for me. Maybe he's really charming and a great conversationalist, but I'm not getting my hopes up.

"Alice, you sweet, fair thing, you be lookin' _hot girlfrien'_," he comments as he saunters over to us, saluting everyone in his way. I hear a grumble next to me and I look over to see Jasper wearing a scowl.  
"Hi Mike," she says smiling, blatantly ignoring his inappropriate comment.  
"Jazzy-Jazz, how you doin' bro?" Mike makes to fist-bump Jasper, who will have nothing of it.  
"Newton," is all he says. He makes no attempt at returning the handshake.  
"Mike," Alice soldiers on, "this is my friend, Bella, the one I was telling you about", she continues.  
"Stop right there!" exclaims Mike as he clutches his heart; his dramatic plea makes me jump. "Did it hurt Bella?" he asks me.

"E-excuse me?" I stammer. I must be drunker than I thought, this guy makes absolutely no sense when he speaks.  
"Did it hurt?" he repeats, "When you fell from heaven," he concludes. I'm staring at him slack-jawed, trying to frame a response to such a cheesy, stupid, useless comment, but quite frankly, I'm drawing a blank. _There are no words for this, no words_. I think to myself.  
Jasper snickers at my side, "sorry Bells, but I can't sit here straight-faced any longer," he whispers, "if you want me to punch him, I'll be out back with the real men," he pats my head as he walks away. "Alice, you owe her, big time!" he says over his shoulder.  
Alice offers an uncomfortable giggle and pats my shoulder, "I'm _so_ sorry for this, I'll do _way_ better next time, I promise," she states solemnly.  
I'm too dumbstruck to form a coherent answer so I just nod.  
"Mike," Alice says, "why don't you go get yourself a drink in the kitchen, and see if they need help flipping burgers," I love it when Alice takes command.  
"More than happy to," he salutes Alice, "did you know I had cooking classes with the Naked Chef?" he asks, and I'm not entirely sure if he's serious or joking, either way, it's really sad.

Once he's out of earshot, I turn on Alice like a hyena staring down a baby zebra.  
"Are you out of your fucking _mind_?" I shout, somewhat louder than I had planned as several people within a 10-meter radius turn to look at us. "I'm _really_ sorry," she insists, "Professionally, he's not such a douche."  
"_Seriously_, Alice!" I exclaim, "your vetting skills are sorely lacking—in fact, I have lost all faith in you as a matchmaker after this poor excuse of a man." I'm just hitting my stride when she takes out her phone and types out a quick text. Not 10 seconds after hitting send does her phone beep.

"Save your speech, Rose and Em are here," she says, "I'm gonna head out back to tell Jazz. Why don't you cool off and stay as far away from the Naked Chef's apprentice as you can," she finishes, barely able to contain her laugh. And I have to admit, it's pretty funny, sad, but funny nonetheless.

I'm drawn out of my musing my Peter charging the front door. I can't help but notice that he's changed into his customary birthday outfit. Charlotte is a saint to put up with his antics.  
"Boys, what the fuck took you so long?" he roars "Been waitin' for a birthday like this for three years now!" yells Peter out on the front porch. Those neighbors must just _love _him. Next, Emmet comes stomping into the house with a shit-eating grin on his face.  
He's not in the house for two seconds before he's cracked a beer and bellows "Let the season of Peter begin!"

I chuckle to myself feeling sorry for Rose having to raise two kids at once. I'm expecting her to follow Em into the house, but instead, I greeted by a long pair of legs, men's legs, attached to an amazing body, and that's when it hits me; I _know_ this body.

_Holy. Fuck._

Mr. Venti, in all his glory, is standing in Peter and Charlotte's entrance looking around the room like he _knows_ these people. I want to leave the room, melt into the wall, look away, _anything_; but I can't. I'm completely fixated on him. I'm a little startled when his eyes lock with mine. _Holy shit! He recognizes me._ Before I can even blink, he mutters something to Rose and heads off to the back yard.

_This can't be happening_… I'm trying to figure out if this reunion is a good thing or a bad thing, but before I can make much sense of anything, the saluting wonder is walking towards me looking me up and down, smiling like an idiot. _Christ, I thought he'd be out back for longer_, I sigh, trying to figure out how I'm going to get as far as humanly possible, away for this dork for the rest of the night.

"So Angel, how come we've never met before?" asks Mike with a goofy grin on his face. As he speaks, his eyes are locked on my chest, not my face. _Strike two, buddy._ I think as I clear my throat in hopes of getting his eyes to focus on mine, or at least focus on my face.  
"We must run in different circles," I say. I'm trying to be as short with him as possible, maybe he'll be able to read between the lines and figure out that I'm not interested.

"I'd run circles around you all day, any day," he says.  
_Just like I thought_, _he's illiterate_. I smile weakly at him and look down. Compliments, especially from people I don't know have always made me feel uncomfortable and awkward. As I'm about to make an excuse to dash out to the backyard to find my friends, Mike surprises me by running the back of fingers down the side of my face.  
"You have amazing bone structure, you know that?" he asks. "You ever think of modeling?" he continues, "I could use you in our next catalog." he smiles, like he's doing me the world's biggest favor.

Before I can even process what's going on, he puts his arm around me and directs me to another couple standing not far off. "Come, on," he says, "You know, I could totally get you a 5% discount on merchandise at my store," he says and the seriousness of his tone makes me throw up in mouth, just a little.  
_How did I get here_? I ask myself. Mike still has his arm draped over my shoulders and is chatting animatedly with apparent colleagues of his when I get the feeling that I'm being watched. I look around and quickly spot Mr. Venti and his almost familiar, piercing gaze. Instead of blushing and looking away in embarrassment, thanks in large part to the liquid courage still coursing through my veins, I meet his stare head on. His eyes flicker down to Mike's arm draped possessively around my shoulder then back up to my face. When his eyes meet my own again, I realize that he has a pained look on his face. He looks so lost: beautiful and vulnerable, but lost. As soon as he meets my gaze again he turns on his heel and stalks out to the backyard again, almost crashing into Jasper as he makes his escape.

Jasper, ever the observer, stares at me, then at Mr. Venti's retreating form, then back at me with a small smile playing at his lips. The smile, however, transforms into a scowl as his eyes flicker to Mike's arm over my shoulder. Then it dawns on me; they were _both_ staring at Mike's arm over my shoulder. _Do they think we're together_? I cringe at both how this looks and at the thought of being Mike Newton's… _anything_!

I extricate myself from Mike's hold and excuse myself from the conversation.  
"You need anything, baby?" Mike asks.  
I bristle at his term of endearment. _Strike three, jackass, now get me the fuck out of here_. "First, I'm not your baby, and second, I most certainly do _not_ need anything from you." I state with as much gusto as I can and storm off in the direction of the kitchen.

By the time I get to the kitchen, I'm so angry, I visibly shaking. Rose is leaning against the counter, chatting with Charlotte and Angela about Katie. Rose takes one look at me and states without emotion, "Alice owes me fifty bucks," with an emotionless look on her face, then turns back to her friends and resumes her conversation as if I weren't even in the room.

Dumbfounded by her cryptic comment, I simply stare at her until she sighs, exaggeratedly, "what was she thinking setting you up with that dweeb?" she asks rhetorically, "I mean, seriously, that was the easiest fifty bucks I've ever made, like taking candy from a baby, really", she says to no one in particular.  
"At least somebody's getting something out of this shit-show of a set-up," I mulishly reply.  
"Oh relax, will you? Besides, you're mostly drunk, you probably don't even realize how much of a loser Newton actually is," she says.  
"Oh Rose, trust me, I realize." I deadpan.

"Look at it this way, at least you're here with other friends and not on an actual date with the douche," says Rose, no doubt looking through her rose-colored glasses.

"Alice's out back if you want to gloat," I reply sardonically.  
"Oh, she's probably tearing a strip off of Edward as we speak, so I'll just wait that little storm out before I head out back for a victory lap and collect my winnings," she says with a chuckle.  
"Edward?" I ask, sidetracked by this new bit of information.

"Her and Em's cousin, practically their brother," she clarifies, "He came with us tonight. Emmet, Jazz, Peter, and Edward all grew up and went to school together. He's Katie's godfather, but he's been away, overseas, for the last three years or so. He just got back last week, apparently."

_So Mr. Venti has a name and it's Edward._

"What? Who is Mr. Venti?" asks Rose.  
_Shit_. I realize that I've probably said this out loud.  
"Nothing." I mumble.  
"Right. Well, why don't you go out back and introduce yourself to the other tortured soul at the party?" she says, "Besides, Em's back there and no doubt waiting for you to come out and say hello," she says with a wink and a knowing look, that only Rose can pull off.

_What have I got to lose_?

Nothing, that's what; I steel myself, thankful for the near bottle of wine that coursing through my veins, and make my way out to the backyard to introduce myself to the mysterious Mr. Venti—I mean Edward. I should really start calling him by his name; he'll think I'm a bigger idiot than he no doubt already does if he hears me referring to him as a cup of over-priced coffee.

I'm about to round the corner of the patio to go find my friends, when I hear my name and can't help the chill that runs down my spine at the way it sounds when _he_ says it.

"Alice, I have no intention of treading anywhere near Isabella, so relax," says Edward. I'm frozen in place, trying to understand what's going on, and more importantly, how Edward knows my name.

"Surely she's enough to tempt even you, Edward, come on; she's got the face of an angel _and_ the rest of her is pretty damn seraphic as well," says Alice, bless her, forever championing me.  
"Fine Alice, she got a pretty face, I'll grant you, but I'm not in the mood to chase after anyone, especially someone who bats her eyelashes at the biggest moron in the room!" says Edward, rather heatedly.

_What. The. Fuck._ I can't help but wince at the venom in his voice when he all but calls me a tramp. The jackass doesn't even know me. I am beyond mortified. I'm sure my face is color of a hothouse tomato. I can feel my eyes welling with tears, and I angrily swipe at the traitors that are threatening to fall. I should march up to him and demand that he not only apologize, but explain himself as well; but I'm not hardwired that way. My body always chooses flight. I turn on my heel and make a beeline for the safety of the house—Mike Newton, be damned.

I stumble back into the kitchen only to come face to face with Rose, ever observant Rose.  
"Wow, that was fast—what the hell happened to you?" she asks as she takes in my tear-streaked face.  
"N-nothing, just st-stubbed the shit out of my t-toe," I stammered as I wiped the last of my tears away.

"Bullshit, Bella—" said Rose with her hands on her hips in her _quit fucking with me_ pose.

I cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "Not now, Rose. I'm just gonna go up to the b-bathroom and get c-cleaned up… I'm fine." I finish and I practically run out the room and up the stairs to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, I'm sober, decent, and as steeled as I can make myself, when I descend back to the party. I quickly scan the living room to find it Edward and Mike-free. I breathe a sigh of relief and grab a bottle of water from the cooler and make my way to the corner of the room to pretend to be engrossed by Peter's music collection. The party is now in full swing and the festivities have moved from testosterone-fueled lawn games to a men-only beer pong game in the living room. I honestly don't know how Charlotte does it, Rose would have Emmet castrated if he tried to pull this off at their house.

Alice brings me a piece of angel-food cake as a peace offering—she knows it's my favorite, while she continues to apologize for the disaster that is Mike Newton.  
"Forgiven and forgotten, or at least I plan on forgetting all about him—where is he anyway?" I ask, as I realize he's been absent for quite some time.  
"Jasper has him out in the back yard trying to capture a skunk under Peter's shed," she giggles, "he said to say "you're welcome" on his part."

For the first time in what feels like hours, I smile and laugh.

After cake, I return to my musings in the corner, glad to be alone. I'm trying to make sense of Peter's eclectic taste in music when I'm startled back to the here and now by the most musical and hauntingly familiar voice.

"Are you taking any requests?" says Edward, just over my left shoulder.

"What?" I say as I whirl around grasping my throat from his surprise attack. His voice is so calm and soothing, so different from the angry tone I heard him use earlier. I know I should just walk away, but once again, I am rooted in place, completely fascinated and enthralled by the man standing in front of me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I was just wondering if you were in charge of the music," he says with a soft chuckle, light dancing in his vividly green eyes.  
"Oh, no. I wouldn't even know how to turn this thing off let along change the disc," I stammer, feeling my cheeks warm under his scrutiny.

He seems to stifle a quiet laugh as he extends his hand in greeting, "Hello, my name is Edward Cullen".

To say that I am shocked at our conversation is the understatement of the century. I go to take his hand and introduce myself in return, but I'm so startled by the painful electric shock that passes through our joined hands when we touch, that I snatch my hand away before any real handshake has occurred.

"My apologies, can we try that again?" he says with a wry smile.

This time, I take his hand firmly into mine and stammer, "I'm Isabella—Bella Swan," _nice, and now I'm an idiot who doesn't even know her name_, I think as I blush ten shades of red.

"Pleased to meet you Isabella-Bella," he says, clearly amused.

_Christ, could I be any more of a dunce? _ "Just Bella," I manage.

"What do you do for a living, Bella?" he asks, and I can't understand for the life of me why he wants to know. Didn't he just call me down to the lowest for standing near Mike Newton? I'm so damn nervous as to why he's even speaking to me that I keep my answers as shot and simple as possible—less chance of embarrassment that way.

"I'm a teacher," I reply.

"Well, you know what they say about teachers don't you?" he says with a knowing tone. _Are you kidding me? He is _not_ pulling the lazy teacher joke. I can't take much more shit tonight_. I think to myself.

"No, I don't," I say in my most innocent and confused voice.

"You know; those who can't; teach," he says realizing too late that this quite possibly the _worst_ thing you can say to a teacher.

"Oh, really?" I ask in my most serious, toneless voice, "That's nice. If you'll excuse me," I say as I turn and head out of the living room.

Most often, I berate myself for my sense of flight and cowardly ways, I can't help it, I don't like conflict. In this case, however, I'm glad for my tendency to retreat. I might have said something really rude to him, or worse, I might have kicked in the nuts. I find myself back in the kitchen, glad to be alone. I might as well make myself useful as I sit here and simmer, so I start doing some of the dishes in the sink—there'll be less for Charlotte to do later.

I'm so angry with this man for making me feel so worthless. The pots and pants don't stand a chance against angry, hurt Bella. As I scrub, I notice some more angry tears slipping into the soapy water in the sink. This just makes me angrier. I've cried so much because of this man tonight. _Who in the fuck _is_ that guy anyway? What kind of son-of-a-bitch says things like that to someone he doesn't even know_? He must be socially stunted or something.

The slam of a cupboard door startles me and I don't even have to turn around to know it's _him_. I feel the same electricity in the room as when we shook hands a little while ago. What I don't expect are the words he all but whispers as he retreats from the room.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" he whispers pleadingly.

The sadness in his voice is crippling, and I know from his words and the way he's said them that he remembers. This time, he is the one fleeing and he is the one giving my very same words back to me from when we first met in the coffee shop. In that moment, he is forgiven.

I finish the dishes and grab my things; I need to get out of here. I am exhausted from the emotional roller coaster that has been this evening. I see Alice and Jasper in the living room, talking to Rose and Emmet.  
"Hey guys, I'm beat. I'm gonna cab it home," I say with a tired smile.  
"You sure?" asks Alice; I know she's hoping I spend the night at their place; she's worried about me.

"I'm fine, I'm just Peter Partied out," I say lamely.

"I saw you and Edward chatting earlier," says Rose, clearly wanting details.  
"Not tonight, Rose," I say and maybe it's the tired sigh that accompanies my plea, but she relents.  
"OK, not tonight, but definitely tomorrow. You're still coming to the game?" she asks as she hugs me whispering an I love you in my ear.  
"Wouldn't miss it." I say with a tight smile.

Emmet gives me a hug and Jasper walks me outside and waits for the cab with me.  
"Spit it out, Jazz," I say as whatever is on his mind is clearly bothering him.  
"You and Edward…" and I'm about to interrupt him, but he puts his finger over my mouth, "all I'm saying is give him a chance. He's the best of us, always has been," he finishes.

"You saw?" I ask, and from his quick nod, we both know that I am referring to the colossal fuck up that was our first conversation.

"That's the first time I've ever seen him pluck up the courage to go speak to a girl in the 20 years I've known him, and not just any girl—you. Hell, even I'd be nervous, you're the Belle of the ball," he says and I swat him playfully.  
"I'm serious, Bells," he says solemnly, "I meant every word."  
I'm stunned into silence by his statement. Before I can reply, the cab pulls up and honks impatiently at us. I hug Jasper fiercely. As the cab starts to pull away, I remember one last thing and I ask him to pull over.  
"Jasper!" I yell, and he turns to look in my direction, "Thank you for the skunk!" I bellow and I am rewarded with a loud guffaw and a mock salute.  
"Take me home please," I say to the cab driver and we pull away into the night.

**OK, so I have a few ideas as to which direction this story could go. Please tell me what you think. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! Thanks. **


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